Praise (17 page)

‘Help me,' she said, ‘I don't know what I'm doing.'

‘Do you think you should go to bed?'

‘Yes. Please.'

I took her back into the house, found her a bed and lay her down in it. I almost kissed her, stopped myself, left. Then I went into the kitchen. Frank and Leo and Cynthia and Molly were seated round the table. They were already half-way through the bourbon. I sat down next to Cynthia.

‘What about this acid?' I said.

Leo brought out the tabs. We gulped them down with the bourbon. It was almost one in the morning and there were only a dozen people left, other than ourselves.

We had half an hour to wait. Cynthia and I went for a walk along the beach.

‘You were out here with Maree tonight, weren't you?'

‘Just for a walk.'

‘Sure. Look, Gordon, I don't care anyway, not tonight. Fuck who you want.'

‘I'm not going to fuck anyone.'

She shook her head, looked at me. ‘You can't even cheat on me properly.'

We went back inside to the kitchen. The bourbon and the acid were starting to work. The kitchen began to swell, expand. Leo and I retired to a corner, laughing at each other. I lost track of everyone else. Suddenly a woman was there. It was Sophie. Another one from my university days.

‘Sophie,' I said, ‘I didn't know you were here.'

‘I just arrived.'

She sat on my lap. Her face was flushed and sweating. It looked like mine felt.

‘I'm on acid,' I said.

‘I'm on ecstasy. It's better.'

‘I've never tried it.'

‘You should.'

She stroked my neck.

‘Come outside,' she said.

‘Why?'

Leo watched us.

‘I want you to fuck me,' Sophie whispered.

‘What?'

‘I want you to
fuck
me. Wouldn't you like that?'

‘No ...'

She sighed. ‘You're so boring.'

‘So I keep hearing.'

‘Well then, I'm going to dance!'

She was big and uncoordinated. There were other people dancing too. I hadn't even noticed. Leo got up and started dancing with Sophie. He grabbed her, tried to kiss her. She swung away.

Jesus, I thought.

I got up and started looking for Cynthia. It took me a long time. The acid slowed me down. I went from room to room. There were bodies sleeping all over the place. I went out onto the verandah. There was no one there. I looked over the edge. The whole beach seemed to be writhing. Bodies everywhere. There were two, quite close. On a blanket. I stared. I was hallucinating. There was no one there. Then there was someone there. They were naked. Entangled, half wrapped in clothes or rags or a sheet. I couldn't tell. I couldn't see. I decided it was Cynthia and Molly. It made sense. I leaned further over the railing. I felt like I was falling towards them.

‘Gordon ...'

It was Sophie. Leo was with her. His arm was around her shoulder. He had to reach up to get it there.

‘I'm heading off,' she said. ‘There's other parties.'

Leo looked up at her. ‘You want me to come with you?'

She looked down at him. ‘I'll be fine.'

Leo removed his arm. She disappeared. I heard noises coming from behind me, down in the sand.

‘C'mon, Leo,' I said. ‘Let's go for a walk.'

We went back through the kitchen, collected the bourbon and some of the beer, then went on into the yard. We stumbled around for while, looking for a way through the fence. ‘Where's the fucking gate?' screamed Leo.

We panicked. It was the acid. We ran back and forth. We couldn't find the gate. We were stuck there. We'd never get out.

Then suddenly we were through. We plunged down onto the beach, to the water. It was black. Thunderous. We were terrified.

‘Don't fucking leave me here, Buchanan.'

‘We're lost. We're doomed.'

We stopped and pulled from the bourbon bottle.

I told Leo what I'd seen from the verandah.

‘No fucking suprise there,' he said.

‘No. No fucking suprise.'

We went on. We found a deserted stretch and sat on the sand. We lit up cigarettes, swilled the bourbon and struggled to keep rational. The hours passed. We finished the bourbon and the beer. Things went from black to grey. The wind was still driving in. Dawn was about an hour away. The horizon was piled with storm clouds. They glowed. Golden.

‘This is amazing,' I said. ‘We've gotta show someone else.'

We ran back up to the house. We looked for Cynthia and Molly. There was only the blanket lying there. Maybe it hadn't even happened. I went inside and started searching through the bedrooms. I came across Rachel.

‘Rachel,' I said, shaking her, ‘Rachel.'

She woke up. ‘Gordon?'

‘Come outside. You've gotta see this.'

‘But it's cold.'

‘Come
on
.'

She got up and followed me onto the verandah. It was all still there. She hugged her arms around herself. ‘Beautiful,' she said. ‘Can I go back to bed now?'

‘Rachel!'

‘I'm tired, Gordon. It really is beautiful, and I appreciate the thought of you waking me up, but I'm going back to bed.'

I wandered back out into the yard. No one was around. I sat down on the blanket. The light grew. The clouds were dazzling towers. The sun rose behind them.

Some time later Cynthia and Molly came walking back along the sand. ‘Did you see that sunrise?' Cynthia yelled.

‘I saw it.'

‘You seen Leo?' Molly asked.

‘I think he's inside somewhere.'

She went on up to the house. Cynthia sat down beside me.

‘So. Did you get to stick it in last night?'

‘No.' I put my arm around her. The acid was in decline. I felt very drunk and very tired. ‘Of course it went better for you.'

‘Of course.'

‘I saw you, y'know.'

‘I know you did.'

‘I thought I was hallucinating.'

I gathered the blanket around us. We held hands.

The world brightened, lost its mystery. The sun emerged above the clouds. People began moving about in the house behind us.

We got up, brushed the sand off the blanket.

Then we went inside.

Cynthia went off to find Leo and Molly. I sat on the verandah. Frank came out. We surveyed the world.

‘How's Maree?' I said.

‘Pretty sick. She's asleep.'

‘She said last night that things might be over between you two.'

‘Yes. They might be.'

‘Why?'

‘I don't know. There doesn't seem to be anything to talk about anymore.'

Well ... you have been going out for a long time.'

‘Yes. We have.'

Over four years, in fact.

What was there to say.

I met the others at the car. This time Leo and I took the back, Cynthia and Molly took the front. Molly had volunteered to drive. ‘Wait a minute,' I said. I ran back inside and looked through the fridge. There was some beer left. I took four cans and went back to the car. ‘Here you go,' I said, passing them around.

We drove.

The beer made my stomach inflate like a balloon. By the time we got home I was in pain. We opened up the flat and climbed into bed. Cynthia wanted sex. I wasn't up to it. I ached all over.

‘Wasn't Molly enough?' I said.

‘It was nice, but we didn't do that much really. She wants to fuck you, I think. She kept asking me what you were like.'

‘You're wrong, Cynthia. Not everyone wants to fuck me. Certainly not Molly.'

‘Maree, then.'

‘That was years ago.'

Cynthia rolled over. I scratched her back for a while. Then we slept.

Next day was termination day, abortion day. We were up at eight in the morning. I ate some toast and drank some orange juice. Cynthia watched me eat. Her ban on food was in effect. She was still smoking, though.

We were in the car by nine and made our way onto the southern freeway. I was driving. We didn't talk. Cynthia smoked, and lit cigarettes for me when I asked.

‘I wish we'd fucked yesterday,' she said, finally.

‘Why?'

‘I might die today. It would've been our last time.' She started crying. ‘I don't wanna die without fucking you one more time.'

I put my hand on her leg.

‘I'm sorry, Cynthia. But you won't die.'

‘I might,' she whispered. She stared out the window. She looked small and afraid. It was strange. She was a stronger person than me, but she was afraid of more things than I was. Especially of death. I kept my hand on her leg.

We made good time. We crossed the border and followed the map Children by Choice had given us until we found the clinic. We parked. There was still half an hour to go. We sat in the car.

Cynthia said. ‘I don't want to do this.'

‘You don't have to. We can go back.'

‘No, I have to. I just don't want to.'

We got out of the car and walked up to the clinic. In the doorway Cynthia stopped and took off her ring.

‘Here.' She handed it to me. ‘I'm not supposed to wear any jewellery.'

I took the ring and put it on my little finger.

We went inside. There was a large waiting room and it was full. We went to the desk and Cynthia checked in. The nurse took down a long list of details, then we went and sat down with all the others.

The place was busy. Every fifteen minutes or so one of the women was called. Others emerged from the recovery rooms. They picked up their men, or their friends, or their mothers, and left. Then it was Cynthia's turn.

‘Goodbye,' she said.

I kissed her. The nurse took her away. Then the nurse came back. ‘You can wait here, if you want, or you can come back in about an hour and a half.'

I decided I'd go out for a while. I went back to the car, and started up. I could see a hill up behind the town, and what looked like a park on top of it. I drove around until I found a road that took me up there. I parked and walked the last hundred yards up to the top. There was a bench. I sat down. I could see up and down the coast. The day was hot, with big white clouds moving slowly out to sea. It felt like it might storm, later on.

I looked at Cynthia's ring. It would be happening by now. I could see, down below, the building that contained the clinic. I rolled cigarettes and smoked. There was no one else in the park. The time passed.

I drove back down, parked, went into the clinic. I sat, read magazines and waited. Then a nurse brought Cynthia out. ‘Here she is.'

Cynthia didn't look at me.

‘Let's go,' she said.

I followed her out. I put my arm around her.

‘How'd it go?'

She was lighting a cigarette. ‘I dunno. They knocked me out, I woke up. I was crying when I woke up.'

‘Does it hurt?'

She shook her head, blew out smoke. ‘It just feels empty.'

We got in the car. I said, ‘What'll we do now? You could get something to eat, if you wanted.'

‘No. Let's go home. I think I'll just go to bed.'

We drove home. The clouds were thinning out. It was turning into a splendid, sunny day.

I opened up the flat. Cynthia went straight to bed and curled up in a ball. I lay down beside her. I rubbed her back.

‘Are you okay?'

‘It doesn't hurt, but I feel terrible.'

‘I'm sorry.'

We stayed there for hours, not talking.

I was still wearing her ring. I took it off, handed it over.

The next couple of days were quiet. We watched TV, drank, ate big meals. Cynthia didn't say much. I did what I could. She seemed to appreciate it. She wasn't in any pain, at least, and the bleeding was light.

Then on the afternoon of the third day she started getting cramps. They only lasted a few minutes, but they came once or twice every half hour. They hurt. We went to a chemist and bought some of the painkillers she used when her periods were bad. She took double doses and they seemed to help. The bleeding got worse.

By next afternoon the cramps were severe. She took huge doses of the painkillers. They didn't work. By ten that night she'd used them all. The cramps were hitting every ten minutes. She was curled up on the bed, holding her belly and crying. I massaged her stomach. The pain kept coming.

About midnight I said, ‘There must be
something
that'd help.'

‘We could ask a chemist. Do you know any late night chemists?'

I thought I knew of a couple, out in the suburbs. We got in the car and drove. Cynthia doubled up on the way. ‘Oh fuck,' she said, Fuck fuck fuck!'

We made the chemist. It was closed. I drove to the other one I knew. It was closed too. What was wrong with this town? We'd been in the car for half an hour. Cynthia was curled against the door.

I found a phone booth and looked up chemists in the book. I rang five or six of them that were listed as late night. None of them were open.

‘Jesus fucking
Christ
!'

I rang a hospital. I said, ‘My girlfriend had an abortion a few days ago, and now she's having bad cramps. They're really hurting her. Could we get anything for it?'

‘We couldn't just hand out medication. We'd have to examine her, and if she was bad enough we might admit her ...'

‘Hang on.' I ran back to the car. Cynthia was breathing hard. I said, ‘I can't find a chemist. I rang the hospital. They'll examine you, if you want.'

‘No. I don't wanna go near a fucking hospital. I'll be all right. Just take me home.'

I went back to the phone. ‘She doesn't want to come in. Are you sure we couldn't just get something for the pain?'

‘I'm sorry, not unless we can examine her ...'

‘Well do you know of any late night chemists that'd be open?'